AFFLICTION. From Herbert

When first Thou didst entice my Heart To Thee, I thought the Service brave; So many Joys I for my Part Set down; besides what I might have Out of my Stock of natural Delights, Augmented by thy gracious Benefits.

I view'd thy Furniture so fine, So gay, so rich; and All for Me! Strongly it spoke the Hand Divine, And lur'd my ravish'd Soul to Thee. Such Stars I counted mine: both Heav'n and Earth Paid me my Wages in a World of Mirth.

What Pleasures could I want who serv'd A King, where Joys my Fellows were? Still my fond Hopes no Place reserv'd For pining Grief, or anxious Fear: Thus did my simple Soul thy Yoke embrace, And made her Youth and Fierceness seek thy Face.

At first Thou gav'st me Sweetnesses, And strew'dst with Flow'rs the narrow Way: Smoothly my Soul sunk down to Peace, My ev'ry joyous Month was May. But with my Years Sorrow did twist and grow. And made a Party unawares for Woe.

My Flesh chastis'd with tort'ring Pain My Soul, and Sickness clave my Bones; Pale Agues dwelt in ev'ry Vein, And sadly tun'd my Breath to Groans. Sorrow was all my Soul; I scarce perceiv'd, But by the Pains I suffer'd, that I liv'd.

Health's slowly-lingring, vain Return A far severer Loss attends; Sudden my ravish'd Life I mourn, I lose it in my dying Friends. Defenceless now, my ev'ry Comfort fled, While Grief's whole Sea is empty'd on my Head.

How Thou wilt now thy Servant use, Not one of all my Books can say. On thy ignobler Works I muse, And wish like them my GOD t' obey: Blest, could I emulate the lifeless Mass, Flow like the Stream, or flourish like the Grass.

Yet must I, tho' opprest, submit Strongly my Mis'ry to sustain— Or I will now the Service quit, And strait some other Master gain— Ah! my dear Lord, tho' I am clean forgot, Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not!